


all in the blood.

by Keter



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 05:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7347178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keter/pseuds/Keter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a short and vaguely unfinished drabble about two hunters and a few minutes in the day of a life of beast-hunting. I might make it into more, but maybe not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all in the blood.

Blood flew over them, and it was the sweeping arc of arms flung upwards in exaltation, or perhaps something altogether less holy. This sick blood falling like thick rain could hardly constitute a baptism, and yet they felt themselves cleansed in the downpour.

A choral hymn of righteous pain - of beastial wails, of severed sinew, of brittling bone - the only music of an emptying city over which leviathan church bells now hung silent until the Day of Judgement. It was a cacophony to which they had become accustomed, even fond. So long as the beasts screamed, so they knew they were alive. They filled their bellies with the spilled entrails of the fallen and slaked their thirst with the rivulets of blood that soaked their coats and stained mortar red.

It had been this way for as long as they could remember, even before their paths met, even before they had taken each other's bloody hand and joined in ghastly union to rid the streets of the pestilence they themselves bore in their stomachs, their wounds, their veins.

Was it this knowledge of having to eventually succumb to the disease that drove his saw to gouge so determinedly through the flesh of the scourge? Was it the flickers of plague that seeded his mind with the urges of beasts, that filled him with such a desire to wipe out what of the hordes he could? Did he fear that undeath? Did he feel some sense of duty towards what remained of humankind?

Perhaps, but surely those were not her motives. Her savage hands were moved by pure delight, and by the innate incentive of rending meat from bone and organs from their parietal casings. Weapons were a barrier between her and the sweet warmth of her quarry. In being so direct, she embraced the beasthood to which she knew she would soon be subject, and this did not bother her so much as it did him, who feared the loss of self in that transformation. She simply did not see much of a difference in herself. She was already ahead of what she could ever become.

And now - she ducked violently, a twisted arm hurtling through the space her head had just occupied. Her laugh was horrible and raspy, and was as grating as the sound of ragged blade on bone that retaliated as her partner swung his own arm around to amputate the offending limb. As the shrieking man-beast stumbled backwards, grasping at what remained of its upper arm, she vaulted forwards to tackle the creature and shred open its chest. The pressurized spray of the swollen arteries coated her face and spattered into her grinning mouth. She craned her neck back, her wide golden eyes open to watch him dispatch the last of the mob of creatures.

An easy, merciful wound to the throat. It crumpled to its knees and then face-first into the cobblestone as he stepped back. The heavy soles of his shoes clunked measuredly against the street's stone as he turned to gaze down upon the crouched she-demon staring back at him while picking without looking at the downed beast. His expression was unsurprised and unimpressed; she was just as unabashed and amused with herself (as she always was, without fail).


End file.
